a telephone interview with a depressed woman, "Virginia,"
suffering from an addiction treatment disorder

"I just got out of a hospital rehab program. I guess it didn't
do me any good," she said, "I only stayed sober for ten days."

So I asked, "Why did you go into the program?"

"Because I'm an alcoholic," she said. "I got really bad
and I needed help drying out. I hate living my life this way, but nothing
works. I've been in two other rehabs in the last three years, and I've
been to a lot of support meetings, but I always go back to drinking."

So I asked the question, "So, what's your plan this time?"

"That's why I'm calling you now. I still need some help," she
answered.

I pressed a little. "What I am asking is what your plans are concerning
your future use of alcohol."

She was perplexed. "Plans?"

"Yes, Virginia," I responded. "What is your plan with regard
to your addiction to alcohol? Do you plan to stop drinking or do
you plan to continue drinking?" I waited as her wheels turned.

Finally she answered, "I don't have a plan one way or the other."

So, I asked, "Is there anything about not having a plan to stop drinking
that is interesting to you?"

"I'm not sure what you mean," she said.

I proceeded to draw out a rather bizarre picture. "What I mean, Virginia,
is that you have been in three expensive hospital rehabs in the last three
years, and you say you hate living in the chains of addiction. But when
I ask what your plan is for the future use of alcohol, you come up blank.
Isn't this a little strange?"

Sounding a little annoyed, she said, "Well, if I knew that I wasn't
going to drink anymore, then I wouldn't be calling you now, would I?"

Pressing further, I said, "Of course not, and that is precisely why
I have asked you this rather blunt question. You have a serious addiction
that you say is ruining your life. And you placed this call to find a way
to end it. Isn't this so?"

"Yes," she said, "this is so. But you are making it sound
like I can just wish this problem away, and go on as if I wasn't an alcoholic."

I continued, "What did you learn last month during your last hospital
rehab?"

"Learn?" she asked, puzzled. "I learned that I will never
really recover from my alcoholism because it is a chronic illness. I will
have to go to meetings for the rest of my life, and relapse is a normal
part of recovery. I can spot signs of relapse by looking for feedback from
others. If I don't go to meetings, I am probably in the process of relapse.

"I still have a long way to go with get ting my higher power together,
and I have trouble with Step One, the powerless step. I still have trouble
with that, and there's still some problems with my personal inventory that
I will have to work out. I have no serenity, and my spiritual life is down.
Life seems impossible when I look very far ahead, and that's what scares
me. There, is that what you mean by what I learned?"

I leveled, "Yes. You just told me that you have no plan to recover
from alcohol ism. You plan to flounder with your ad diction for years to
come, experimenting with higher power ideas, playing games with the powerless
idea, trying to prove to yourself that you're a decent person, and going
to meetings that bore you stiff. And, very importantly, Virginia, you plan
to relapse any time you feel like it."

A long silence ensued. Finally, she quietly said, "That is perfectly
correct. And I feel like killing myself when I think of it."

"I suppose you've been thinking of getting rid of yourself for quite
a while."

"Yes," she whispered.

"But obviously, you do something else instead. What do you do each
and every time you think of killing yourself because your drinking problem
seems endless?"

"I get drunk."

"And you have no plan to stop drinking. Isn't this strange, Virginia?
Did any one in the hospital suggest that you stop drinking alcohol?"

"Yes, the pharmacist said I shouldn't mix alcohol with my antidepressants."

"So at least someone besides me thinks you can choose to not
drink alcohol. But what do you think? Can you make a plan to stop drinking,
for your own good?"

Annoyed once again, she said, "It's not realistic for me to just say
I won't drink any more. This thing has destroyed others in my family --
my father, and two brothers. It is a disease that runs in the family and
that's part of what's going on with me. You don't seem to understand. Have
you ever been addicted to anything?"

"Yes, booze, for many years. And I also used to believe the same nonsense
that you've been telling me for the last few minutes. I thought I had some
disease that was making me drink, and that I was somehow destined to drink
forever. But I learned better and got better by refusing any further use
of alcohol. Yes, Virginia, there is a cure for alcoholism, and it's as
old as the hills."

"A cure? You said a cure for the disease of alcoholism? There
isn't any cure for it," she asserted. "The counselors at the
hospital say we can only arrest it. Isn't the idea of a cure dangerous
thinking?"

"Well, if you think that 'cure' means you can keep on drinking, perhaps.
But what would your life be like if you never drank again?"

"I can't think of that," she said.

"Won't," I corrected. "You won't, be cause of your
plan to drink forever. But go ahead, Virginia, take a peek, What would
you be doing today if you hadn't been drinking for the last few years."

"I would be a graphics designer in Europe, where my ex-boyfriend
lives. He would have me, but not in this condition." She recounted
how her fiance finally gave up on their relationship be cause of her repeated
relapses.

"So today is just an outcome of your past drinking, and you can see
that your future, likewise, would have a much bet ter outcome if you stop
drinking now. But do you want anything better than what's going
on now?"

"That's why I called."

"Then, how about making a plan never to drink again?"

She hesitated, "I can't. It makes me feel too anxious. I just can't."

"Very good, Virginia," I said. "You are actually doing very
well at what we do in Rational Recovery. Right now, you are feeling
your addiction, and you are having conflicting thoughts about the use of
alcohol. This is your ambivalence about drinking, something all
addicted people have, On one hand, you'd like to stop drinking and get
on with your life, but on the other hand, you're terrified of giving up
alcohol. That part of you wants to drink forever."

Virginia sensed she was understanding something for the first time -- something
extremely important. "Yes! You've hit it on the head again! At one
level, I do want to flounder with this addiction forever, playing
recovery games and relapsing from time to time, but I also want
to get this be hind me and get on with my life. I'm sick and tired of being
sick and tired. Right now, I have a strong desire to quit drinking for
good. But I'm afraid to feel it too much, I may be in denial -- denying
that my disease is chronic and incurable and progressive. If I relapse
again, my hopes will be dashed, and I'll be more depressed than ever. But
I do feel both ways. And I do want to get better. Right now!"

Most people who call Rational Recovery are facing the same dilemmas, and
they are usually excited at the prospect of an actual cure from
the ravages of addiction. So I made her an offer she would not likely refuse.
"Okay, you're on. If you want to kick your addiction for good, here's
the game plan. Ready?"

"Okay, go ahead."

"From now on, let's just say you plan never to drink again.
Is that agreeable?"

"I'm open to that."

"Fine. But there's this voice in your head, right? And it says you
can't do it -- that you're doomed to a life of drinking."

"You got that right."

"So let's just call that voice your Addictive Voice. It is the thinking
that you do that argues incessantly for more drinking, and tells you how
impossible it is for you to quit drinking for good. Get it?"

"Like there are two of me?"

"No. There is only one of you, and you plan to never drink again.
But you have ideas and thoughts and images of drinking that you can spot
and recognize. Those thoughts are yours, for sure, but they aren't you."

"Oh, that voice! The one that's telling me right now to have
a drink once we hang up."

"You're doing it, Virginia! You are now practicing what we call Addictive
Voice Recognition Technique and after only about ten minutes of talking
about it. In Rational Recovery we call Addictive Voice Recognition Technique,
'AVRT' for short, and the letters almost spell out the word avert.
You can completely recover from your addiction in a relatively short period
of time by doing what you just did. Now, tell me what you think of AVRT
so far."

She paused, then said, "Well, I can see it gives me some control,
some of the time, but I doubt that I can always do that."

"Let me suggest, Virginia," I said, "that you may have just
heard your Addictive Voice once again, but you failed to recognize it."

"I don't think so. No one's perfect, but I can probably use AVRT to
do better at times. But I doubt that I can always resist the desire
to drink."

"I hear your Addictive Voice right now, Virginia. It's saying, 'AVRT
is cute, but I will still drink any old time I feel like it.' Do you see
how your thinking leaves the door wide open to drinking any time you feel
like it?"

"Now that you point it out, yes. I do see. This Addictive Voice, as
you call it, is a real, uh..."

"Beast. We call it the Beast, because it doesn't care about anything
but booze. It doesn't care about you or anything you value, including your
relationship with your fiance, your career, your health, or anything at
all. It will even tell you that life is so rotten that you may as well
commit suicide, gambling that you will drink instead of going to the trouble
of killing yourself. Its main weakness is that it is easily identified
-- by what it wants -- and once it is recognized, it's defeated. Our definition
of the Addictive Voice, or the Beast, is, 'Any thinking that supports any
use of alcohol -- ever.' That's how I am able to identify your Addictive
Voice here on the phone. It's easy for me to hear your Beast, and with
a little practice, it will be just as easy for you."

Like others who learn about AVRT, Virginia responded with some very good
feelings. "This gives me such a good feeling to learn about AVRT.
It's a feeling of hope I haven't had for years. I actually feel like I
can do something to help myself. Why haven't I heard of this before?
I mean, with all the treatment I've had -- why isn't this information given
in regular treatment programs?"

I told her, "Things are changing very rapidly in addiction care programs.
Many are offering Rational Recovery by name. But America is going through
a very bad time over addictions. The 12-step program of AA is being
presented to the public through virtually every treatment program in the
nation as a universal program -- one that will work for everyone.
Al though AA helps many who choose it and appreciate its good points,
it probably harms even more people who are not there by choice.
They, just like you, find its message of disease and powerless ness not
only useless, but actually harmful. And, as in your case, many people get
caught in the jaws of defeatism when they find the 12-step program
contrary to their values or unsuited to their needs."

Virginia then asked, "You know what this means?"

"What?"

"This means I'm not crazy."

"I'll bet that feels good."

"It's like a great weight has been lifted from me," Virginia
said. "I now have hope. You can't imagine."